Occupation of Independence

It's hard to discuss four wheel drive fairly. Since the 1980s it has been common and hackneyed to ridicule the owners of four wheel drive SUVs and pickup trucks as being turned on by the image of their machine, while in fact they have little, if any, use for four wheel drive. Indeed, if car loans weren't so easy to get, they would be forced to be more sensible. My own view is the American male is so emasculated by feminism, political correctness, and traditional wife-ish henpecking that a giant truck -- with big ol tars, 2 feet of ground clearance, and a throaty exhaust system -- is the only macho stupidity that society still permits him. But this discussion isn't about aspirational brontosaurus drivers in the suburbs; nor is it about jeeping as a "sport"; it's only about RV camping in the outback, and whether you need four wheel drive to do it.

Downsizing is both a challenge and a source of great satisfaction. However, one must be careful not to get sucked into Asceticism. The travel blogosphere is full of Holy Prophets of the Desert (grin), who think that when they die they are going to Heaven to sitteth upon the right hand side of Thoreau or Gandhi. For folks not in the market for pseudo-religious emotionalism disguised as philosophy, let's look at the Downsizing mantra from a rational viewpoint. The concept of Diminishing Returns is one of the most universal and true ideas in life. The first bit of Goodie X is wonderful; the next unit does you less good, and so forth, until you are getting less and less for each additional unit of time or money.

It is remarkable how few rattlers I see over the course of a year. The long term average is 0.4 rattlesnakes per year. And some of that is just confusion with similar-looking (non-venomous) bull snakes.

How could a full time traveler not get spoiled and fickle; how could he ever adjust to doing the same thing twice? Those were the doubts I had when getting off the road about three years ago. But I had a secret weapon: the Granny J Principle. That is, I would now look at "routine" things more carefully and closely, instead of relying on sheer visual novelty. A mind can be like a camera that takes a macro closeup of interesting details, instead of a pan-opticon of ever-changing landscapes.